


You (Don't) Own Me

by Your_Narrator



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Canon Compliant, Falling In Love, Flirting, Grumpy Old Men, M/M, One Shot, Pining, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, so far 3 people ship it including me, subscribe to joey x bertrum today
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-16 17:11:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18695794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Your_Narrator/pseuds/Your_Narrator
Summary: “Just the other day, I saw Joey talkin with that Piedmont guy, and I gotta say, it’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. They got an energy between ‘em that I've never felt before. Let’s put it this way: if Susie and Sammy got some magic between ‘em, then Drew and Piedmont must be some kinda wizards, but hey, who am I to judge? They were both obviously enjoyin themselves. However, if either of them realizes that I saw them lookin the way were? I’m outta here!”





	You (Don't) Own Me

**Author's Note:**

> They say to be the change you want in the world.  
> Well.  
> That's why I'm writing these Joey and Bertrum fics.

The break room for Joey Drew Studios was the one room in the entire business that was actually tended to on a regular basis. Coffee was made fresh, clean mugs were ready, and there was always room to sit down and take a moment for oneself. It served as a haven for those that wanted away from the hell that was their jobs, and every employee was more than welcome to come and get a cup of coffee. This included those that didn’t have an office there.

Bertrum peaked in, relieved to see he had caught the room at the perfect time: it was empty. He then strided across the nearly broken wooden boards, excited to finally have some time to himself. Grant Cohen was a nice man and all, determined and cooperative, but money was such a struggle in this place; and trying to find pieces of the budget for Bendyland was turning out to be more hassle than any other project Bertrum had ever worked on. Then again, with a man like Joey Drew at the helm, was that really surprising?

Bertrum took out the carafe and poured the warm coffee into one of the studio’s small, mustard-colored mugs. He then stored the carafe back into the coffee maker before lifting the mug to his thin lips and taking a gentle sip. It wasn’t a fantastic brew, but the black coffee was suitable, and its caffeine was enough to perk Bertrum up.

But another voice perked him up much, much more: “Fancy meeting you here, Piedmont.”

Bertrum didn’t even have to turn; he knew who it was. It was a gruff, jovial voice that seemed to follow him every time he came to the studio.

“And fancy meeting you,” he replied as he turned to face the man.

Standing in the doorway, with his navy blue vest and slacks on, was none other than the blonde casanova himself: Joey Drew. He leaned against the doorframe, his head slightly turned up as to gaze down his nose at Bertrum.

“Sometimes it feels like you’re stalking me,” Bertrum smirked at his own words.

“Well, you’re just so hard to get to sometimes,” Joey strolled in as his icy blue eyes narrowed, “Especially with Grant needing you so much.”

“Do I catch a hint of jealousy, Mr. Drew?”

“Never. I have nothing to be jealous of.”

Bertrum stood against the wall before he continued, “Maybe if you stopped making Grant spend your money so much, I’d have more time to speak with you.”

“Shouldn’t I be your top priority in the first place?” Joey took the last few steps between him and the redhead he was now so focused on, “You are building my park.”

“Your park?” Bertrum glared, his smirk persistent, “I’m happy to plaster your little devil darling all over my greatest achievement.”

“Yet when the park is done, it’ll say “Bendyland.” Not “Bertrumland.” “

Bertrum chuckled as he rolled his eyes, “It always has to be about you, doesn’t it?”

“Doesn’t it?” Joey’s hand reached up, and his fingers gently took Bertrum’s chin, “Having Joey Drew Studios be about Bertrum Piedmont wouldn’t be right, now would it?”

Bertrum set his mug aside without breaking eye-contact, and his tone had affection to it, even if his words bit at Joey’s ego, “My company isn’t about me, even if it holds my name, you arrogant asshole _. _ We represent entertainment excellence, and my parks are an extension of that goal, and even then, my name is but a label. Have you ever considered that the rest of the world doesn’t see you as the center of it?”

Joey pretended to consider Bertrum’s question.

“No,” Joey then leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I’d never consider such ludicrous things.”

Bertrum brought his finger up to Joey’s lips, stopping him in his tracks, and Joey blinked in surprise.

“One day that arrogance is going to get you into trouble, Joey.”

Joey smirked against Bertrum’s skin, “Yet you love hearing it, don’t you?”

Bertrum hummed appreciatively, retracting his finger, “Perhaps!”

“Perhaps?”

“Perhaps. And did I tell you that you could call me by my first name?”

“I’m sorry,” Joey’s fingertips gently grazed Bertrum’s hips, “But I don’t see where you get to make those calls,  _ Bertie. _ As we’ve established, you’re in my studio.”

“Disgusting,” Bertrum whispered back with a smile, “You know I hate that nickname.”

Crossing his arms, Bertrum maintained eye-contact, and Joey took a step forward, bringing him toe-to-toe with Bertrum. Their chests threatened to bump in to one another as their breathing deepened at one another’s gaze.

“You’re my employee,  _ Bertie.  _ I can call you as I wish.”

“The only time you can call me what you want is when we’re in private,” Bertrum’s eyes flicked up and down Joey’s stature, taking him in with an unamused gaze.

Joey’s head swiveled, examining the empty room before he turned back to Bertrum, “I don’t see anyone.”

“Gross,” it was an empty word, “And what if someone were to catch us?”

“Then they’d see who you belong to.”

Bertrum grimaced, “You may pay me, Mr. Drew. But you don’t own me. Even my affections for you aren’t to be owned.”

“But you own me, Mr. Piedmont.”

Bertrum’s heart smashed into his ribcage, and for the first time during their entire exchange, his face felt warm.

“And if you own me, do I not own you in return?” Joey added, somehow unphased by his own words.

Bertrum scoffed, trying to ignore his racing heartbeat, “Is that how you understand our relationship?”

“Yes,” for a moment, a small glimmer of light reflected in the back of Joey’s lifeless eyes, “How do you understand it?”

Bertrum’s mind was clouded by confusion as his arms tightened across his chest, but he held his head high through the stress, “I don’t know.”

Joey’s hands took a firm hold of Bertrum’s hips as his head leaned in once more. Bertrum didn’t move to stop him this time, and thus Joey’s lips gently pressed on to the corner of Bertrum’s mouth, giving him a long, firm kiss. Joey’s lips were slightly chapped, rough around the edges, yet their pressure made Bertrum’s whole body tense up.

As Joey broke contact, his voice was barely a whisper, “Then tell me when you do know.”

And then, without another word, Joey’s warmth left. He walked across the room at a steady pace and turned around the corner, leaving Bertrum’s shallow breaths to echo against the empty walls.

“G-god,” Bertrum’s hands moved up to fix his suit and fluff his hair, “Dear, God.”

He pulled himself off the wall, his legs slightly wobbling under his nerves as he reached for his coffee and downed it like a bottle of beer.

“You are a grown. Man,” he snapped to himself.

But what did that mean in the commanding presence of Joey Drew?

**Author's Note:**

> I've never had a rarepair before. This is... Strange.  
> Nonetheless, I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/your_narrator13) with my own original comic if you at least like my writing style. If you like this ship, please... please tell me...  
> ... it's so lonely out here...


End file.
